Awakened to the fact of her son’s existence and perhaps as an antidote to her unusual display of sentiment, Mrs. Wopp spoke rather sharply. “Moses, time you an’ Betty was in bed. You won’t want to git up in the mornin’ an’ milk the cows.” Later left alone in the lower part of the house she stood arms akimbo in the middle of the kitchen gazing at the door through which Nell Gordon had just departed. Shaking her head she said mysteriously, “I kalkerlate as how things is a-settin’ in that way.”,
The light shone through the colored glass window, casting a bluish tinge over the large earnest countenance of the teacher, and a distinct whisper was heard to the effect that “Mrs. Wopp’s face was blue moulderin’.”,
He felt his mother start. “You’re too young for hard work, Billy; you do enough as it is.”,
The story had fairly begun when Mrs. Wopp, Nell Gordon and Mrs. Bliggins could be heard coming up the ladder.
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“Do you need it right away?” Billy stood his wheel against the steps and flung his books on the porch table.,
“Oh, aint it beaut-i-ful?” admired Betty. The creation which she admired so immensely was made of pieces of silk of many colors and was reminiscent of numerous long-defunct waists, ribbons, neckties, hats and, perhaps, even a few wedding gowns which had travelled from several corners of the globe to be welded together in this glorious finale. The pieces, irregular in shape, had been sewn together and the seams beautified by feather-stitching. On the majority of the patches were names worked in red, green or yellow, whichever color contrasted most suitably with the background. Here, for the nominal sum of ten cents, names which might otherwise have fallen into oblivion were destined to live and bloom for incalculable years. The quilt now nearing completion would, when finished by its energetic creators, be sold at auction and it was expected to bring a handsome sum. The money so realized would revive the drooping finances of the Ladies’ Aid.,
The blandishments of soda water fountains, candy stores, and other boyish temptations, found no victim in Billy. But if Mr. Cooper, the tinshop man, had driven hard bargains he would have bankrupted the boy. As it was his weekly allowance suffered in spite of Mr. Cooper’s generosity and Billy’s free access to a rich scrap heap at the rear of the big shop where everything, one would say, in tin and iron was made, from well pipe, tanks, and boilers, to tin wings for Edith’s fairies in the opera.,
“Here, Mose, hoi’ this here jint while I fit the next one inter it.” A tongue-twisting silence ensued.
Outside of the flower garden proper and between it and the vegetables, were several rows of gay sunflowers. Mr. Wopp approved of these mightily, because the seeds were “sich grand feed for the chickings.” Betty looked on these gaudy sentinels with sorrowing pity, because they had not the daintiness of the other flowers.
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“Why doesn’t the Gang come, mamma?” he asked, returning the kiss he knew was one ahead for his natal day.
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The child seeing the twinkle in the older eyes, laughed aloud; and, wrapped in a voluminous apron, began the first task that had ever left its stain on her pretty fingers.
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“Been talkin’ to a grave-digger?” queried Mrs. Wopp, of her offspring, as Moses selected a comfortable seat, his sober face still bearing traces of the last few days’ anxiety. She looked on the solicitude of Moses with an approving eye, but it was necessary, however, to hide her maternal pride by a series of assaults upon him on every possible pretext. Her banterings also helped to keep her son and heir in the spotlight.
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>Her questions brought long and wonderful tales of Billy’s younger life; of Edith when she, too, was a little girl. The child helped to set the table, carried in bread, salad plates, and jelly. “It shakes like the fat woman at the circus when she laughed. How do you make jelly?”
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